Avatar Journey to the West
by Pakari Yacer
Summary: Twenty years ago, the world was cursed. Those who once controlled the elements became demons. The Avatar has called a young monk on a journey to make the world whole once again, but the way is treacherous. The chosen monk, a broken waterbender, an ancient fire demon, a dishonored prince, and a hardened hunter and his blind apprentice... Together, they must the Journey to the West.
1. Chapter 1

The clear light of the moon shone off the rocking waves, glimmering as if in imitation of the sparkling stars.

The breeze, chilled as it was from the barren glaciers of the south, coated even the roughest waves in a momentary sheen of ice, constantly cracking and dissolving against each other. The wind, carried as it was by the moonlight, reached past those waves, onto the solid surface of the great field of ice. Ice crystals blew about in its passing, flurrying and scattering before the course of the windstream, gradually gaining strength as it went along, buffered from below by the ever-present ice.

The power built until it had become a tangible force, scouring the barren surface of any snow that had dared fall from the sky, smoothing the rough edges of ice blades and chasm ridges. It soared on and on, farther and father into the heart of the South, the ever-present wind becoming a rushing gale. Anything living heard its approach, and tried to find what shelter it could glean from the barren surfaces. Whenever one was unsuccessful, the wind regretted its own passing, its stealing away of the heat from the living things.

But the gale, guided by moonlight, was seeking something.

Something that could withstand it.

Soon it reached the outskirts of the ruins. Structures, seemingly made from the ice itself, as if drawn from the very air, lay in piles upon the ground. Their broken forms had been melted and re-frozen countless times over the years, but the remnants remained. The gale swept over the remnant of a watchtower, small piles of wind-scattered bones half-submerged in the frozen ice, unable to hide the scorch marks that had left them there. The forces of the wind and light swept through the ruined structures, searching, searching.

They left the faded village and came to the rows of crystal graves. Within each was a perfectly preserved body; men, women, and children. Their bodies still retained the wounds that had killed them, and many were burned, their clothing and skin blackened. They were all dressed in the blue of the people of the Water Tribe.

The gale moved onward; it was not seeking the dead, but the cursed.

It came to the wreckage of a great iron ship. It had been locked in place by the very ice it had once so firmly crushed. The wind passed the broken armored forms at its base and swept up the tilted ramp. It fell upon the ice-cracked deck, jagged spears of ice and blasted metal still remaining from the furious energies that had scoured its surface.

There, the gale found what it had sought. A being was on its knees, facing northward, head lowered. Surging forward in sudden exultant power, the sweeping winds crashed against the lone form.

The moonlight watched.

The gales drove and spun and carved, the ragged blue clothing of the being whipping about it in the sudden whirlwind. It slammed against it, again and again, trying desperately to sweep it to the metal of the deck, to show the being the barren power of the Southern winds. It tore, bit, and ripped at the ragged being, screaming its solidarity to the skies above and the frozen sea below.

The being did not even take a breath.

Their powers exhausted, the wind fell back, confused. Its strength, gained over a hundred miles, had been repulsed.

As it had been for over five years.

The moonlight was satisfied. This was the being that it had sought. It took the form of those that walked the earth, a form it had not used in millennia. As the form coalesced, it smiled. Long pale hair swirled around kind features, a robe of the purest white drifting about it. The Spirit of the Moon, the Goddess of Mercy, lifted a gentle hand, and covered the being in the warm winds of spirit that were so much kinder than those of the barren plain. "Daughter of the sea, receive my peace and hear my words."

The demon girl raised her eyes towards the Spirit. They were blue, glowing with an inner light. They were filled with despair that was deeper than the ocean, and pain that was sharper than the blades of ice in her hands. Her lovely face- lined with that despair and pain—was framed by tangled and ragged brown hair. But two thin braids, woven through with blue thread, were still visible. "What do you want from me, Spirit?" she whispered, voice raw and jagged.

The Spirit's smile faded. "Why do you remain here?"

The girls' eyes narrowed, the demon marks on her face glowing with the same energy as in her eyes. "I am alive, and my family is dead. I would honor their graves with my own…" her voice cracked. "But I cannot die."

The Spirit allowed itself to drift closer, almost touching the surface of the broken vessel. "Perhaps… you are not meant to die, daughter. Perhaps the universe has other plans for you."

"I want no part in such plans," the girl spat, her hair falling around her eyes. She did not bother removing it.

"There is a monk," The Spirit's voice was tempered by patience but reinforced with firmness. "He has been called by the Avatar to journey to the Thunderclap Monastery, seeking to end the curse on the people of this land." The Spirit paused, a small smile gracing her features. "The curse that is upon you, daughter. He is in need of protection, and companionship."

"Why should I?" The girl rejoined, baring her sharp canines. "Tell me why I should leave the graves of my people, to complete my failure before them."

"So that you may have a reason to live," stated the Spirit calmly. The girl's eyes narrowed in anger, but the Goddess met her gaze unwaveringly.

The girl's breath caught in her throat, and her hardened exterior collapsed. She bent to the deck, the glowing eyes clenched against the tears that threatened to fall. "I am not worthy to protect any life, Spirit. My grandmother, my brother, everyone I have ever known, fell because I was not strong enough to protect them! You would entrust this monk's life to me, she who has fallen in every possible way?" The last word was meant to be a growl, but it came out choked.

The Spirit knelt to the deck, allowing her frame to become physical. She took the girl in her arms, ignoring the shocked stiffness that spread through her. "I would have no other," the Spirit whispered. The girl remained still in her supporting arms, the tears still not falling. But she did not reject the embrace. "There is much damage in you, daughter…" The spirit stated. "It is deeper even than the curse that marks your face. The path to peace will be long. Do you accept the call?"

The girl nodded silently. The Spirit stood, holding out her hand, and a gleaming staff formed from the ever-present light of the moon. A slim blade marked its tip, and ancient writing inscribed its hilt. "This is Xiangyao. He will guide you to where you will meet the pilgrim on his journey." The girl took the haft of the blade numbly, looking up at the Spirit. "You remember your true name, correct?" The girl nodded. "Do not forget it. I shall give you a new one, in time, to protect you. If you are faithful, you will gain the peace you seek. You may even find things you have lost."

Her eyes were still marked with pain. But now, it was not alone, sharing her mind with determination and resolve. The girl stood, the light of the blue demon marks growing in strength until they met the moonlight itself in power. "I will find your monk, spirit. I will protect him." She stated, resolve filling her words.

Yue—the Goddess of Mercy—nodded, a smile gracing her features. "I know you will. May harmony follow in your footsteps." The Spirit watched the girl launch herself down onto the ice, where a stream of vapor rose from the speed of her passing. The gales would be no match for her.

 _And may heaven itself bless you…_ The Spirit faded back into the winds and light.

 _...Katara._


	2. Chapter 2

Sokka of the Fellsteel Blades grumbled and tossed restlessly. He analyzed the angle of the moonlight coming through the slightly-cracked window and groaned audibly. Already five hours into the night!? He turned to his side, hugging the rough blanket tighter, but froze when the other occupant of the room stirred.

He let out a silent breath and tried to relax, knowing that no matter how much he wanted his sleep, he knew better how much his apprentice _needed_ it. He would not wake her.

Sokka sighed and gently pushed back the blanket. It was no use. He stood, tiptoeing his way stealthily past the sleeping girl to the window. He slowly opened it, the newly oiled hinges swinging silently, letting the silver moonlight stream into the inn's small room. But before he raised himself through it, he glanced back at his apprentice.

Toph was curled into a ball, snoring softly, her dark hair loose and fanning around her head like a spikey sea urchin. He couldn't help the smile that spread on his face. He had known her for almost two years now, and she had grown much from the little gutter girl from Ba-Singzte.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her strange ears, chipped and bladed like a shaped rock. He had always wondered about those, but she'd only said they were something she'd had since she had been born.

The small sword that he had given her lay beside her sleeping form, one of her callused hands reaching out to rest on its grip. The bruise on his ribs twinged, and the smile grew pained. Though she still favored her enchanted hammer, -which made her ridiculously strong, how _else_ could the girl lift so much?!- she had become quite proficient with his gift. He wasn't better than him, no _sir_. But she was passable. For a girl.

For a _blind_ girl, he corrected himself abashedly.

He lifted his hand away carefully. Sokka's smile faded as a wave of emotion swept through him, overwhelming in its confusion, with both joy and pain prominent.

He had a little sister again.

Lifting himself up onto the sill, Sokka clambering as quietly as he could to the timbers of the wall. He adjusted his grip, made sure his foothold was secure, then easily lifted himself to the rooftop. He settled himself on the peak of the slanted roof, the chill spring wind rustling past him, and exhaled deeply.

He thought about why he couldn't sleep.

It wasn't Toph's snoring. He knew that, he had become used to it _months_ ago. It wasn't the soreness in his arms or in his back from the never-ending training. It wasn't that he missed Suki, the Earth Kingdom warrior he had become acquainted with some months before, though it _would_ be nice to see her again.

No, it wasn't any of those.

It was the nightmares. Memories of flames, and screams, of roaring winds and surging ice under his feet. Of his desperate cries to his ever-more distant sister, the still form of his grandmother on the smooth ice, the exploding metal-bound ships.

Sokka drew his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes. That was why he could not sleep. Such dreams had not plagued him in years, why did they choose _now_ of all times to keep him from rest? He sighed and leaned back against the roof, trying to relax once again. The matted straw of the roof was itchy, but also somehow comforting. He looked up at the bright moon, of the wispy clouds attempting and failing to block its unearthly light. He yawned. Maybe this might actually…

The light increased. He squinted in annoyance, holding his hand up to block the sudden light. What the… Seriously, even the _moon_ was trying to keep him from- Then he saw who stood in front of him.

His heart dropped just as quickly as his jaw.

A beautiful woman floated above the straw thatch of the roof. She wore robes of white, that fluttered and drifted in an invisible wind, her long pale hair reaching down beyond her back. The spirit- she had to be a spirit- looked like… who did she look like?

"Sokka son Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe," The spirit's voice reverberated through him, and Sokka quickly rose and knelt before her.

"Yes, that's me, uh, my lady. What… what can I do for you?" he started nervously, eyes lowered. By the Gods, this spirit lady better not wake Toph up… Then the spirit started to laugh, the sound light and vibrant and… familiar. Sokka looked up in surprise.

She smiled down at him, eyes thin with humor. "I was not yet finished… but like all those times before, I do not mind somehow..."

"Ma'am?" he replied in confusion, but there was something tickling at his mind…

She waved a hand lightly, and her smile left her face. "Forgive me, I am here for another purpose entirely. You know better than most of the curse affecting this land. You hunt the more chaotic of the demons, is that correct?" Sokka's eyes widened at the change of topic, but narrowed as he nodded.

 _The screaming of common people. Fire raging around and within him. Blood of a demon on his blade and silence after._

Yes, he knew about demons. He knew how to kill them.

"There is a monk, tasked by the Avatar with the reversal of this curse. He is in need of companions, especially those with such experience as you have. Would you do this?"

Sokka looked down and took a deep breath. That was… a bit of information. "I… You honor me, spirit... but…" He looked back up at her and tried to string the words together. The fact that she was so gorgeous wasn't helping anything at _all._

The Spirit looked to him, and tilted her head gracefully. "There is… another duty that you have, is there not?" Sokka looked down at the roof beneath his feet, to where Toph slept. He nodded silently. "Ah, the one you think of as a daughter." Sokka almost objected, but shut his mouth just in time. _Don't correct the all-powerful spirit, Sokka. Remember the last time you tried that?_ The Spirit continued. "She may accompany you, of course. You do not have to leave one duty behind to take up another. She can learn much from this Journey as well."

"Yes, my lady, but…" he thought desperately for a moment, weighing his options. If what she was saying was true, about the end of the demons… Fire and death flashed through his mind, of rowing frantically to escape the doom that had taken everything, everyone, he had loved.

Sokka gave a raw chuckle. "I guess I really wouldn't mind if my line of work suddenly disappeared. It's better for everyone that way." He met the spirit's blue eyes once again. It was the same shade of blue as Katara's. "I won't speak for Toph, but I will ask her." He took a breath to steady his nerves. "I accept the call."

The spirit smiled down at him, joy visible in her expression. "You will be blessed by your loyalty and ingenuity, and will serve the traveler well." She lifted a hand, and suddenly _his_ sword- the one he had made upon graduation from the Fellsteel Archive- was in her grasp, the straight black blade shining in her ethereal moonlight. "I bless this blade made of the heavens, and give you a new name." She fixed him with a glance. "Do not forget your own, but merely use this one during your journeys. It will protect you from the powers of corruption." Sokka nodded, confused, but put it out of his mind. He could remember his own name.

She held out the sword and lightly touched his head with its point. "I name you Arisoka Bajie, and give you this power to defend and protect." She held the black blade in hand and Sokka took its' hilt, feeling the familiar weight and… something else. An energy, a source of strength flowing into him. "Travel to the crossroads at Zhu Dakai, and wait for the traveler there. He will not be long." She paused, but then looked at him with firmness in her gaze. "A warning, before I depart." Sokka nodded, suddenly wary. "Temper your hatred," the Spirit proclaimed. "Your thirst for vengeance is strong. Do not let it blind you, and overcome it, if you can." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "For I know you can. Goodness can rest in every heart, no matter the curse upon them."

"...Yes, my lady." Sokka narrowed his eyes, but bowed his head. She was right.

The spirit nodded to him, that small, wonderful smile lighting her face, and she began to rise, turning towards the moon. "May harmony follow in your footsteps, Arisoka of the Heaven's Blade."

Sokka stood hurriedly, surprised at the suddenness. "Um, thank you, my lady!" Then his brain prodded at him, and he almost stumbled forward. "Hey, wait, I have a question!"

She turned back, expression regal, yet somehow curious.

"What is your name?"

The smile returned. "I am the Goddess of Mercy, and the Guardian Spirit of the Moon."

Sokka rubbed a hand through his hair, abashed. "Oh, ok. Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I am also known as Yue." Sokka blinked. Even as he watched, the Spirit began to fade from his view, dissolving into bars of gleaming moonlight, sifting through the clouds. "I may see you again…" Her voice was a fading whisper, somehow carrying hope on fragile motes of light, but also taking whatever stirring remnants of memory he had with it. He grasped at them, but it was like weaving smoke.

Sokka took a deep breath, tightening his grip on his sword, shoving away the distraction. He lifted it, touching his forehead to the cold steel. He had a new duty now.

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and he set about trying to stealth back into his room. Arisoka of the Heaven's Blade… He liked the sound of that. What about… Arisoka of the Heavenly Demon Hunter Blade? Of Heavenly Power! Wait, he had already used Heaven once… Sokka was still pondering titles when a deep- and dreamless- sleep finally took him.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun rose, rosy and pale on the horizon. The greenery that covered the land in this late spring season rippled in a light breeze showering the land with a blanket of glittering pollen and life. The wind continued through the valley, rushing up to the base of a lone mountain, it's five close peaks resembling the hand of a great god, or perhaps a great demon.

Sun Wukong, QuiTian DaSheng the Immortal and All Powerful Demon, sneezed.

"I HATE SPRING!" His holler of frustrated fury carried no further than the tiny opening that allowed fresh air, and pollen, to reach him. The seal dangling a mere foot from his face prevented the sound from carrying beyond that small space. What sound did escape scared away any who may have heard. San Wukong often wondered at what they heard coming from beneath the mountain. In the early century of his confinement, he had yelled at passersby for amusement, but, as San Wukong once again assessed his situation, he grudgingly admitted that the shouts in the four hundred years since then were mingled with desperation.

All he wanted was someone to itch his poor nose.

Snorting to clear away some of the dirt, Wukong scrunched up his nose and rubbed it furiously against the dirty stone where he usually rested his head for sleep. Fortunately, it eased the worst of the itch. Unfortunately, it made him sneeze again, and his face was now filthy. Well, filthier. He sighed, resigning himself once again to countless hours of tortured boredom. He wasn't tired. Who would be tired after five hundred years of nothing to do but sleep? He wanted to run again, and fly, and burn something, and be able to shapeshift, and, and, and.

He stopped himself. _That_ line of thinking would only make him sulk again. He adjusted his head to prop his chin in a convenient divot that he himself had worn into the unyielding stone. All this rock, and he had only managed to wear _one_ divot which, conveniently, was where he rested his chin when he was contemplating life and exactly how _boring_ it was. He stared out at the freedom that was so flaming close to him, but so blasted far away at the same time. He really wanted to bend, to burn something, maybe even break something. By heaven, he'd settle for just being able to scratch his back right now!

The sun rose higher and began to shine right in his eyes. Wait. The sun _never_ did that. He had been stuck in the same place for 500 years. He should know. Wukong began to get excited. If he were standing, he might even bounce from excitement. But he couldn't. He squinted into the brightening light, trying to see who was coming to visit him. He really hoped it wasn't one of the Avatars. He didn't exactly have a good rep with them at the moment. The light coalesced into the form of a young woman with flowing white robes, long shimmering locks of pale hair, and a smile that lit up Wukong's day. Literally.

"Yue! I am so glad to see you! Can you _pleeeeeease_ come itch my nose? I can't get rid of it!"

The Goddess of Mercy tilted her head slightly to the side and smiled at him. "I see that 500 years of isolation has done nothing to calm your...temperament." She flicked a finger and Wukong's sneeze, the one that had been building at that exact moment, dissipated. But the itch was still there.

"Thank you, but...my nose?" Wukong asked hopefully.

Yue laughed, the sound bouncing around the small space. "I think that an itchy nose may do you more good than your confinement has." Wukong grumbled, muttering into the dirt. Yue raised an eyebrow daintily, but didn't say anything on his comment. "I do however, bring you an offer."

Wukong lifted his head slightly, eyeing her through his bushy eyebrows. "What could you possibly offer me, hmm? You've already refused to itch my nose." He grinned as he saw the Goddess of Mercy actually _roll her eyes_ at him. _Score!_

"I _was_ going to offer you a chance at freedom, but if you insist on being uncooperative…" she trailed off, turning as if to leave.

Wukong jerked his head after her, wishing he could reach out to the Goddess. "Waitwaitwait! I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Pleeease don't go!"

Yue stopped and turned back, giving Wukong a look that reminded him why he disliked heavenly beings so much. She was so...haughty. And all-knowing. It was _infuriating_. He forced a smile and batted his eyes at her innocently. Her smile deepened. "There is a young monk who has been summoned by the Avatar. If you wish to regain your freedom, you will accompany him on his journey and protect him."

San Wukong frowned. The Avatar might be a problem, but he didn't let her see that. "That is all?"

Yue smiled at him again. _What is with this goddess and smiling all the time?_ "Mercy is never unconditional, San Wukong." She stood a little taller, if that were possible, and pointed at him, regality shining from her. "It will _not_ be easy, for even one such as you. Promise, by your true name, that you will do your best not to allow harm to come to the traveler, nor abandon this task before it is seen to completion."

"Ok, fine, whatever," She narrowed her eyes and he started again hastily, "I! Sun Wukong! Swear to protect this monk and guide him safely to his destination. There, happy now?"

Yue tilted her head, sighing with stretched patience. "I said, your true name, Wukong."

Wukong blinked in surprise. His true name… why did she want that? That was the highest oath a being could offer! This must actually be pretty serious if those were involved. Wukong dropped his head to the floor, touching his forehead to the rock. "I, Sun Wukong, QiTian DaSheng. swear to protect the monk and guide him safely to his destination."

Yue nodded. "That is much better."

Wukong sighed in relief. "Great! Where do I find this monk? And...when do I get this mountain off my back?"

"I believe he can tell you himself. As for the mountain… I will let him remove that obstacle as well. It will be good for both of you, I think." She began to drift away again, the light fading again.

San Wukong jerked his head around in protest. "Wait! That isn't what you said! You said you would let me out of here! Yue!"

He heard her laugh from the light. "You should listen better, Monkey King. I said I would offer you your freedom, not grant it." The light faded away with the remnants of her voice. San Wukong dropped his head to the rock again. _Blasted Goddess and her precise wording!_ A breeze drifted into his small enclosure, colored yellow from pollen. San Wukong, the Immortal Monkey King, pulled his head away in vain before sneezing violently for several long minutes.

...

Thanks to Aqua Brightwind, my new collaborator! check her stories out, if you will, and feel free to leave a review!


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